A flower, according to Mr. Billy Strayhorn,
now defunct is a lovesome thing
But I wonder, yes I wonder,
if it really bring you all the joy
and all the happiness it's
supposed to bring
People say to me, they say I've got the key,
yes I've got the key to happiness and prosperity.
You gotta love, you gotta love everybody,
gotta love, you gotta love everybody.
You need real good vi brations,
You need real good vi brations,
You need real good vibrations,
You need real good vi brations,
And then you'll love everybody
Better than you do yourself.
That's the point of the exercise, they say,
But I wonder what would happen
if we made ourselves up a whole gang of flower
s out of spring steel and razor blade.
I painted them all over in
pretty colors,
perfumed them with all the sweet
scents of Arabia.
Then if anybody interfered with us
we could give them a real
mark of our affection.
You can't love, you
You can't love everybody,
you can't love
You can't love everybody
Cause they ain't all the same people
I said they ain't all the same people
Oh they ain't all the same people
They ain't all the same people
And I love me, baby,
better than you do yourself
Well, think about it